


Invite the Tabby Two Doors Down

by Chash



Series: I've Had a Really Nice Time, But My Dogs Need to Be Fed [1]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Cats, M/M, Really a lot of cats
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-31
Updated: 2015-05-31
Packaged: 2018-04-02 03:19:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4043872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chash/pseuds/Chash
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jasper keeps trying to put a limit on how many cats they are allowed to have, but Monty has a thing for the guy who works at the animal shelter and Clarke doesn't really listen to Jasper anyway, so it's not going very well for him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Invite the Tabby Two Doors Down

**Author's Note:**

> Once again, shout-out to my friend Steve for giving me the basic plot for this. Truly he is a font of ideas, some of which are good. And shout-out to the Weakerthans for having a song from the point of view of a cat, which made it really easy to pick a title.

"One cat," says Jasper, firm, as they head into the animal shelter. "Repeat after me: one cat."

"We can't just get one cat," Monty protests. "It'll be lonely! We have to get two, so they can keep each other company."

Jasper glares at him. "We said one."

"You said one. I printed a lot of articles off the internet about how two would be better, and you didn't read them." The guy behind the counter cocks his head at them, and Monty smiles. "Hello, can you please tell my friend we should get two cats instead of one?" 

The guy raises his eyebrows, amused; he's got a silver bar in the left one, which is not a look Monty's ever particularly been into, but it really works on him. "You should get two cats instead of one," he tells Jasper obediently.

"Of course he says that, he works here. It's his job to sell us a bunch of cats."

"It's actually my job to make sure our animals are adopted out to good homes where they'll be cared for," he says, like he's reading off a cue card, and turns back to Monty. "I'm Nathan Miller. You're looking for a cat?"

"Monty," says Monty, shaking his hand. "Two cats. We both work weird hours, and our other housemate is in medical school, so we're assuming they'll be alone a lot. So we should get two, so they can keep each other company."

"Well, not to enable a domestic dispute," says Nathan, "but we did just get two adolescents in together, and we'd like to put them in the same home."

"Oh my god, Jasper," says Monty, all pleading. "They need to stay together. They're _cat BFFs_. You cannot possibly tell me you want to break up the cat BFFs."

Nathan snickers, and Jasper glares at them both. "I cannot believe you're teaming up on me with the shelter guy," he says. "He probably has super powers that let him convince people to adopt too many pets. I am the only thing keeping you from being a crazy cat lady."

"Also my preferred gender identification and our desire to not use gross ableist language," Monty says. "Can we see the cats?"

"They won't be ready for adoption for another week," says Nathan. "They just got fixed and we need to keep them for observation after the surgery. But I can take you back to see them, you can decide if you think they'd be a good fit." He glances back at Monty over his shoulder. "Although, full disclosure, they are siblings, not cat BFFs."

"They can be both."

"Do not look at any of the other cats as we walk by," Jasper tells him, as Nathan opens up the door to the cat area. "I should have brought blinders. He can't be trusted alone," he adds to Nathan, which seems unnecessary. Monty is an excellent wingman; the least Jasper could do is not make fun of him in front of the attractive guy who takes care of stray cats for a living.

"I get it," says Nathan, smiling at Monty. "My roommate works here too. We have, uh. Four cats and two dogs."

"Oh my god," says Jasper. "I'm doomed."

"What's wrong with pets?" asks Monty. "Pets are great."

"Look, once you get past a certain number of cats, it starts being a reflection on you, okay? And me by extension."

"A good reflection," says Nathan, and winks at Monty. Monty grins back. "Okay, it's these two."

The cats aren't kittens, but they're clearly not fully grown, either, maybe six or seven months old. One is black with white paws, and the other is a tortoise shell, black with gold and orange patches in its fur. The two of them are curled up together in a pile, and they blink wide, green eyes at Monty when he leans in.

"Hi, guys, hi! I'm Monty. Do you guys have names? Do you like them? Because I have always wanted cats named Luke and Leia." He looks up at Nathan, who's smiling vaguely. "The black one's a boy, right? I know tortoise shells are always girls."

"Yeah, the black one is a boy."

"So, you can be Luke, and you can be Leia. We have a nice house, you'll like it. Me and Clarke checked and made sure all our plants won't kill you already."

"We're getting two cats, aren't we," says Jasper, with a sigh.

"Can I reserve them now? Put down a down payment? How do I make sure I get to keep them?"

Nathan chuckles. Monty doesn't know a lot of people he'd say chuckle, but Nathan seems kind of quiet, not taken to full-bodied laughs. It's almost shy, and Monty's charmed. "Yeah, you can do everything now, and we'll call you when their stitches are healed up." He pauses, and then says, "We have a room where you can interact with them a little, if you want. Play a little, let them stretch their legs, make sure it's a good fit."

Monty lights up, and he and Nathan get the cats out of their cage and into the room, where they pace around, making little _mrrt_ sounds and butting up against Monty's legs. "Can I come see them again?" 

"In the next week?" asks Nathan, amused.

"Just so they start to get used to me. And maybe I can bring Clarke, Clarke should meet them too."

"You are not allowed to reserve any more cats," says Jasper. "Is there a way I can put a hold on his account or something? _Do not give cats to this man_?"

"Ignore him," says Monty.

"Way ahead of you," says Nathan. "Come on, I'll get this paper work squared away, and you two will be all set."

*

"Jasper wanted me to give you blinders?" Clarke asks, sounding wary. She and Monty met in the worst biology lab of all time back in sophomore year of college--it was at eight a.m., the professor periodically went on these deeply uncomfortable pro-eugenics rants, and the tests were always half on material they'd learned and half on material the professor thought everyone should already know. It was the kind of class that created lifelong friendships through shared trauma. "He seemed concerned our house was going to be overrun with cats."

"Jasper is an overdramatic dog person," says Monty darkly. "Also, we have an _entire house_. We could really store a lot more than two cats. Easily."

"I'm starting to see his point," says Clarke, amused. "I'm not _against_ cats, but I think two is probably a good number."

"But these cats need forever homes, Clarke!"

Clarke rolls her eyes as they go in, and Monty is disappointed to see Nathan isn't behind the desk to back him up. The guy who's there is cute, sure, but--well, he liked Nathan. Nathan seemed cool.

"Hey guys," says the guy. "Anything I can help you with? Looking to adopt?"

"We actually already adopted?" says Monty, glancing at Clarke. "Or, well, I did. I stopped by and adopted a couple cats the other day, but they're not ready to go yet, so I wanted to introduce them to my roommate."

The guy snorts. "Oh, yeah. The Star Wars fan." At Monty's look, he says, "Miller mentioned those two got adopted. I'm just glad you renamed them, he was calling them Bellamy and Octavia." Clarke's looking confused now too, and the guy turns a little pink. "Uh, me and my sister," he explains, rubbing the back of his neck. "That did not really--help this conversation. Anyway, Miller's back there with the cats, you can go on through, he can help you out."

Clarke elbows him. "The cute shelter guy told his friend about you," she teases.

"His roommate," says Monty. "I think. They have four cats and two dogs. So that means six cats is acceptable, right? Actually, I think dogs are equivalent to two cats, so eight total cats."

"Are we really taking the shelter guy and his weird roommate as our role models for total number of pets?" asks Clarke. "I did not agree to that."

"I'm just saying, that's one piece of data we have to consider," says Monty. He knocks on the door of the cat area and Nathan--Miller?--appears, wearing a tight white t-shirt and a dark beanie. He's cuter than Monty remembered, which is saying something.

"Hey, welcome back. Uh, Monty, right?"

"Yeah. This is my other roommate, Clarke. She wanted to meet the cats."

"My exact words were, _Sure, I guess, I'm not doing anything else_ ," says Clarke, amused. "And then Monty pretty much dragged me here."

"You're stressed," says Monty. "Med school is stressful. Cats are relaxing. There have been studies. I'm just looking out for your welfare."

Miller is smiling again. "Come on in."

"Which ones are they?" asks Clarke, looking around at the cats. Her eye catches on one of the cages, and she goes over to it before Monty can say anything. "Is it this one?"

Monty catches Miller's eye, and they share a look. "Uh, the one with half an ear?" he asks, dubious.

"That cat hates everyone but Bellamy. And she even kind of hates Bellamy. Just, like. Slightly less."

Clarke reaches her fingers out, and the cat brushes up against her, like she's been waiting her whole life for her. "She's sweet," says Clarke. The cat is giant and rusty orange, and when Monty comes over to look, she hisses and swats at him, and then goes right back to purring as Clarke rubs her head through the bars.

"Holy shit," says Miller.

"Can I take her out?" Clarke asks.

"Uh." Miller looks terrified. "Let me just get Bellamy. For backup."

He comes back a minute later with the guy from the desk and a pair of what look like leather gloves; the cat deigns to let Bellamy open up the cage.

"She'll only let Bellamy feed her, and she hisses at him half the time too," Miller tells Monty. The two of them are watching for a safe distance, and he's pretty sure they're all waiting for Clarke to lose a finger.

But she picks the cat up, and the cat burrows against her, purring like an engine. "What's her name?" she asks Bellamy.

"Uh, Princess," he says, rubbing the back of his neck. Monty lets out a snort, and he adds, "It seemed like a good idea at the time."

"How much to adopt her?"

"Can we pay her to take her off our hands?" Bellamy asks Miller. Miller shrugs, like this is unknown territory for them.

"We should check her with Luke and Leia," Monty protests, although he knows it's a done deal. Clarke has picked a cat, and no one is going to stop her from getting it. That ship has sailed.

"Yeah, she doesn't necessarily do well with other cats," Miller says. He and Bellamy still look like someone just punched them. The cat is petting herself on Clarke's face.

"I can just keep her in my room if I have to," says Clarke. She looks at Bellamy. "No one else is going to adopt her, right?"

"Uh, yeah, absolutely not. But it's still probably a good idea to try her with the other cats. Just--to see." He's watching Clarke with something like awe. "Are you a cat whisperer? Do you need a job?"

"Not to my knowledge and definitely not," she says. "Where are Monty's cats?"

Monty and Miller get Luke and Leia out again, and it's not exactly _good_ with them and Princess, but they mostly ignore each other, which is better than Monty expected, honestly. Of course, Princess still hisses at him a few times, and takes a swipe at Luke when he gets too close to Clarke, but that's to be expected. Miller and Bellamy give her a wide berth, like they're worried they'll screw it up and she won't take the demon cat.

"I guess Jasper can't blame me for getting the third cat," Monty remarks to Miller. Bellamy is getting Clarke squared away; the cat is still hissing at him every now and then, and makes a halfhearted attempt to shred his hand while he's filling out some forms. "This is on her."

"And, you know, your cats are going to look better by comparison."

"Oh, hey, good call," says Monty. "My cats are saints compared to that thing." He pauses. "Do you do, like, returns? If she tries to murder us all."

"Usually yes. But I swear to god, if you try to bring that thing back, I'm going to pretend no one's here until you leave again."

"Yeah, that seems right," says Monty. He gives Miller his best smile. "So, I'll see you in a few days? For the good cats."

"All cats are good cats," Miller says, like he didn't just say he would actually refuse to take Princess back. "See you soon."

*

"How did you get a third cat?" asks Jasper. "Did you brainwash Clarke?"

"She's my cat, and she's awesome," says Clarke. Princess is on her lap, looking at Jasper with just one eye open, like she is thinking about springing up and ripping his throat out at any second. "Monty still only has two cats."

"I never agreed to separate pet counts," Jasper protests. "You guys cannot each have two cats."

"Monty did the math, we can have eight total cats and not be weirder than his animal-shelter crush."

"He is not my animal-shelter crush," Monty protests. "He is an attractive guy who is supplying me with cats."

"I don't think that's a meaningful distinction," says Clarke.

"How did you come up with _eight cats_?" Jasper moans. "I am never going to be able to bring girls home. Clarke's fucking asshole cat will murder them."

"It's a test," she says, smug. "If they can't deal with my asshole cat, they're not good enough for you anyway."

"Okay, this is a thing girls can do. Girls can be picky. Guys, we don't get that many chances. We can't turn up our noses at people just because they're smart enough to be terrified of the demon cat."

"Her name is Princess. And shut up with your dumb gender essentialist bullshit, girls do not have dating better than guys, we just have different issues." She pets the cat. "Anyway, Princess is staying. End of discussion."

"Did we have to move in with your most terrifying friend?" Jasper asks, after Clarke leaves, but he looks kind of awed. Clarke is pretty much a force of nature.

"Oh, yeah, definitely," says Monty. "Imagine how much worse it would be if she _wasn't_ on our side."

*

The cats are ready for pickup on Saturday; Monty recruits Clarke, both because Jasper would be embarrassing and he thinks she kind of hit it off with Miller's roommate. Not that she will ever admit this. Clarke had a couple really bad dating experiences in college, which he's only vaguely familiar with, but definitely involved cheating and betrayal and a lot of overall bad shit, so she's sworn off dating, and Monty respects that.

That doesn't mean he's not going to drag her along to talk to cute boys. That's just being a good friend.

Bellamy's the one at the desk, and the grin he gives Clarke suggests he's also happy she came back. Monty gives himself a mental friend point.

"Please tell me you're not returning Princess."

"Princess is _awesome_ ," Clarke shoots back. She bit Monty on the foot yesterday, entirely out of spite, but he is not going to mention that. "We're here for our additional cats."

"Miller said they were ready?" Monty offers.

"Oh yeah, the vet cleared them yesterday," says Bellamy. "Miller's in the back, he can get you guys hooked up."

"You go ahead," says Clarke. It's not a great attempt to wingman, but she's doing her best. She doesn't have a lot of experience with this. "I'm going to tell Bellamy how great the cat is."

Bellamy raises his eyebrows, amused, and Monty figures leaving counts as counter-wingmanning. Everyone wins.

Miller's in with the cats again, giving out food. He grins when Monty knocks hesitantly and comes in. "Hey, here for the jedi twins?"

"Yup. Princess is all settled, so I'm expecting a lot of intense cat warfare. But I've got the whole weekend off for once, to mediate, so it should be fine."

"What do you do?" asks Miller, glancing over his shoulder.

"Engineer. My team works a lot with a team in Japan, so there's a lot of weird hours. But it's cool." He grins. "I get to make robots."

Miller grins back. "That's pretty badass."

"Right? I'm so close to being a mad scientist."

"That explains why you need so many cats."

"It's not really a _need_. More of a preference. Strong preference."

Miller laughs. "Actually, that reminds me, we just got a box of kittens. Do you want to see a box of kittens?"

"Has anyone in history ever said, _no, I don't want to see a box of kittens_? What kind of monster doesn't want to see a box of kittens?"

"I got the impression your boyfriend would not be interested in a box of kittens. Come on, they're back here. Too small to be out in public view."

"Best friend," Monty corrects, following him. "Not boyfriend. And he's just concerned that having a bunch of cats will make girls think he's not a good dating prospect. But I think he'd secretly probably like it if he could pretend that's why girls aren't flocking to him. It's nice to have an excuse for being single. Otherwi--" he stops, because, yes, that really is a box full of kittens. Six kittens. They are tiny and adorable. "Oh my god."

"Someone found them and the mom in a dumpster," Miller says, crouching next to him. "The mom was pretty underfed, we're getting her back up to weight before we put her back in with them." He smiles. "You can pick one up."

There's a gray one with a black patch over one eye that Monty's had his eye on; he holds it carefully. It's _so small_. "Oh my god. I should switch jobs. I need a job that is just being covered in kittens. Professionally."

"I don't think that's a real job," Miller says. "But they'll be here for a few more weeks, until they're big enough to be adopted. So you can stop by and see them again, if you want."

"I'm going to reserve one of these kittens, aren't I?"

"No comment."

"This one is really cute," he admits, and Miller just laughs.

*

"Three cats is enough cats," says Jasper. He is pretty drunk, and slurring a little. It's Thursday, it's Monty's coworker Wick's birthday, and he, Jasper, and, Clarke all have the night off, so they're actually all at a bar together for once. Clarke's scary friend Raven, who is somehow involved in her complicated dating history, came too, and is arguing with Wick about sci-fi franchises. Monty is very high and somewhat drunk and feels like the benevolent god of the bar. It is an excellent night. "Too many cats. If we get any more cats, they will outnumber us."

"But we'll still be bigger," says Clarke.

"None of the other cats are going to be as scary as Clarke's cat," says Monty. "If a cat is going to kill us, we already have the cat that's going to do it. So, you know, there's no harm in getting more cats."

"That's probably true," Clarke says. "It's, like, Greek tragedy shit. You went to the Oracle at Delphi and she told you that--" She gestures with her beer. "This cat. This cat will be the cat that kills you."

"Yeah, but those are always a trap," says someone, and suddenly Bellamy from the animal shelter is leaning on the bar next to Clarke. "The Oracle at Delphi's usually kind of tricky. Especially if you're in a Greek tragedy. You think that cat's going to kill you, and then it turns out another one, and this cat is secretly your dad." He smiles at the bartender. "Can I get a Sam Adams?"

"What are you doing here?" asks Clarke, squinting at him like she doesn't trust he's real. Monty is trying to surreptitiously look around and see if Miller's around too, because he has his priorities straight. Clarke shouldn't be the only one who gets to see her hot animal shelter guy. Monty was there first. He _discovered_ the hot animal shelter guys.

"It's a bar," Bellamy says. "I'm drinking." He gives Monty a wave. "Hey, Star Wars guy."

"Monty," says Miller, sliding in next to Monty. "She's Clarke, and I never got your name."

"Jasper." He gives Miller a wary look. "Are you summoned by me talking about cats? Is this like a Candyman thing? Bloody Mary thing?" He turns his attention back to Monty. "What's the difference between Candyman and Bloody Mary?"

"How many times you say the name and what comes out of the mirror to kill you," says Monty. "Hi, Bellamy. Hi, um--is it Nathan, or Miller?"

Miller shrugs. "Either's fine. Bellamy's bad at intimacy, so he always calls me Miller."

"Fuck you, Miller," Bellamy says, absent. He and Clarke seem to have gotten into a discussion of tragic irony, like this is a normal thing to discuss at a bar. 

"How are the kittens?" Monty asks.

"Good. Bellamy's calling your favorite one Inkblot."

"That is a terrible name."

"Fuck you too," says Bellamy, without missing a beat.

Miller gives Monty a little smile. "So, special occasion?"

"My coworker's birthday. Also, the planets aligned perfectly and all three of us are actually free on the same night. That only happens, like, once every three months, and must always be celebrated with high levels of debauchery." He pauses. "I realize we were talking about whether or not Clarke's demon cat is destined to murder us in our sleep when you showed up, but we were just about to get debauched."

"Were you?" says Miller, amused.

"Oh yeah, definitely. Debauched _hard_."

"Sounds like a plan," says Miller. "I'm in."

So they end up hanging out with Miller and Bellamy for the rest of the night; Clarke and Bellamy argue pretty much non-stop, and then destroy everyone at the weird deer hunting game that is in every bar Monty has ever gone to even though he has never seen anyone actually play it before tonight. He's not sure how Clarke got good at fake deer hunting, except that she is terrifyingly good at literally everything. Or maybe she actually has hunted a real deer. She comes from one of those weird, overly rich families. Anything is possible.

He and Miller talk about kittens a lot, and also some about robots. He wonders if there's a good way to work flirting into a conversation about kittens. He's too drunk to try it now, but it seems like a decent place to start for the future. He's not really good at flirting as a general rule, and having something obvious to talk about with him is good, but it's not, like, _hey, cats are great, let's make out_ is a very solid pickup line.

"You guys cannot get cats just to flirt with the animal shelter guys," Jasper says, as they're heading home. "I am putting my foot down. Flirt with them without getting more cats."

"I'm not flirting with him," Clarke says, reflexive and childish. It is definitely a lie. She was totally flirting with him.

"Yes you are," says Jasper, because he doesn't know to be careful around the minefield of Clarke and dating. "Flirting only, no cats."

"It can be two things," says Monty. "All flirting, all cats, all the time. I've got a plan."

This is a lie, but it at least diverts Jasper's attention from Clarke. "I do not want to be outnumbered by cats, Monty."

"But it's a _kitten_. It's tiny, and helpless. And adorable. It looks like it has an eyepatch!"

"We are not getting a pirate cat."

"You haven't even _met_ the pirate cat."

Jasper sighs, like meeting a box full of kittens is a huge hardship. Sometimes, Monty has trouble remembering why they're friends.

"I could meet the pirate cat," he decides, and Monty jumps on him for a hug.

*

Clarke manages to free up her schedule enough she can come to the shelter to see the kittens too; Monty gives Jasper a very firm talking to about how he is not allowed to even _hint_ that she wants to flirt with Bellamy. He made a powerpoint presentation, just to be really sure that he was being clear about how much Jasper is not allowed to mention Clarke and flirting in the same sentence. There was a quiz after and everything.

No one is at the front desk when they get there, which is new. Clarke and Monty go to check the cat area, and Jasper goes to see the dogs, on the grounds that if he's going to be at an animal shelter, he wants to at least see his animal of preference. Monty gives him this one, because he wants him to be in a good mood when he meets the kittens.

Miller and Bellamy are in the back room where the kittens are, and they are actually _covered_ in the kittens. Monty's favorite kitten is on Miller's head, and one of the white ones is climbing up Bellamy's arm, while the rest are just sort of hanging out in their laps and/or on their shirts.

"I will deny saying this if you ever mention it again," Clarke says, "but this it the best thing I have ever seen in my life."

"Agreed," says Monty, and offers his fist. She bumps it, and then Monty knocks and pushes the door open. "Hi," he says. "Jasper wanted to meet the kittens."

"Did you lose him?" asks Bellamy, looking behind them with a small frown.

"He's looking at the dogs to reaffirm his basic, manly love of large animals," says Monty, sitting down next to Miller and taking the kitten off his head gingerly so he can put it in his lap instead.

"You're going to get a dog, aren't you," says Miller.

"I wouldn't mind a dog in theory, but I think a dog would be miserable with us. We're not home enough. We couldn't give it the attention it deserved."

"Yeah, even between the three of us, I don't think we have a schedule that's compatible with a dog," Clarke says. She sits down with Bellamy, and accepts when he offers her a kitten. "But it's impossible to not be charmed by kittens, right? Everyone loves kittens."

"That's what the internet tells me," Monty says.

Miller and Bellamy play rock-paper-scissors to see who has to go back and man the desk; Bellamy loses, and Clarke follows him so she can go get Jasper. Monty's pretty sure it's broadly good for Clarke, that she can pretend her entire motivation for talking to Bellamy is giving Monty alone time with Miller. He's helping.

"Bellamy says I should ask you out so he keeps having an excuse to hang out with your roommate," Miller observes, letting one of the kittens bat at his fingers. "He thinks she'll probably panic if he asks her out now."

"Oh, yeah, she absolutely will," says Monty, surprised at how easy his voice sounds, considering how hard his heart is pounding. "She's pretty bad with dating, but he should--yeah. He should keep hanging out with her. I think she likes him." Miller is still looking at him, expectant, and Monty remembers to add, "Oh, right, shit, yeah, you should ask me out. Definitely. That's a really good idea. You should do that."

Miller ducks his head, laughing. "Okay, yeah, well. Look out for that, then."

Monty grins. "I'll be ready."

*

"Five cats," says Jasper. "This is the absolute, complete, 100% _limit_. No more cats. I am putting my foot down."

Jasper might have fallen in love with one of the kittens, an energetic, slightly eccentric dark grey female with black markings near her eyes. Since she and Monty's kitten are siblings, they've named them River and Simon, and they spend most of their time in weird cat warfare with Luke and Leia. Princess is above it all, but could clearly destroy any of them any time she wanted to. That's not just limited to the other cats in the apartment, either. Jasper is still convinced that when he dies, it will be Princess who kills him. Monty is not convinced he's wrong.

"But what if Clarke gets jealous of our kittens?" asks Monty. "What if she decides she needs her own kitten?"

"I have all the cat I can handle," says Clarke, dry. "I don't think Princess knows how to share."

"What if Miller and Monty get married and it's like in _101 Dalmatians_ , and their cats get married too and have like twenty billion kittens?" asks Bellamy. He has gotten pretty good at showing up and hanging out without making Clarke anxious, which is impressive. "And then someone tries to make a coat."

"Yeah, you'd let us keep them instead of turning them into _coats_ ," Clarke says. "You're not a monster, Jasper."

"How did this conversation even get here," Jasper says, in flat despair. "All I'm saying is that we can't have more than _five cats_. This is not an unreasonable position! Most people would be like, yes, Jasper, five is a lot of cats. You do not need more cats than that, you're right."

"It's not really about _needing_ cats," says Miller. "Just, you know. A preference." He smirks at Monty. "Strong preference."

Monty grins back. "Exactly."

"Five cats. Only," Jasper says. "I mean it this time."

Monty doesn't argue, but he isn't really convinced until he and Miller are making out on his bed, and it's just getting _good_ , and Simon jumps up, vomits next to Miller's foot, and then starts licking himself, like this is no big deal.

Miller falls over laughing, and Monty's not in much better shape. "Okay," Monty gasps, when he's recovered enough to speak. "Five is enough cats. Jasper is right. We don't need any better odds on that happening again."

"He's going to make you put that in writing," Miller observes.

"And I will. After we clean this up, and have sex."

Miller snorts. "Good priorities."

"I thought so, yeah," Monty agrees. First cats, then boyfriend, then, ideally, world domination. With robots.

His life is right on track.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[podfic] Invite the Tabby Two Doors Down](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5331437) by [growlery](https://archiveofourown.org/users/growlery/pseuds/growlery)




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